That afternoon went remarkably smoothly, Eleanor was pretty compliant with everything, and she even offered to dry the dishes after lunch. Offered being the optimal word, two plates in and she was complaining about chipping her nail polish. Eventually Jasper had just shooed her away, and she had retreated to the bedroom to lounge around and sent the occasional text to Liam, no doubt complaining about having to live without her beloved luxuries.
The evening, much like the earlier hours, had been eventless, with the bodyguard serving up a pasta dish for dinner much to Eleanor's surprise. She wasn't entirely sure whether it was endearing or hilarious that the male knew how to cook, she settled on endearing; he had the skills she lacked, the ability to cook, the ability to drive and most enviably, he exercised excellent control. Which was probably why she was drawn to him, together they had everything they could possibly need.
As the hours went on, he began to relax a little more; even cracking a legitimate smile once. They didn't speak about her mother, nor Cyrus, not even her father; Eleanor knew that if she opened up that wound, she would bleed out.
Spending time with Jasper with clothes on was strange, sure she had spent a couple of months with him by her side, but that was when she had been going about her day; this was a completely new world, sitting with this man she knew so little about and spending every waking hour with him. The scary part was, that for the first time in a long time, she felt calm, she felt like she could see the world around her clearly; but even scarier than that was the fact that Jasper was the cause of it. She tried not to let feelings get tangled into the mix, not when everything between them was so messy; but she wasn't about to let him leave her side, hence her hissy fit at the thought of him not being transferred back to her at work. When things were simply physical between them, Eleanor could deny the feelings, telling herself she was letting the sex get to her head, but deep down she knew, it was more than that. It was something far more terrifying. The Princess thought her feelings were somewhat at bay, but every time she looked up, watched him read the newspaper, lips pursed in concentration, she was filled with an emotion she had never experienced at this level before; and it was starting to feel a little like she was drowning.
Standing abruptly from the sofa, Eleanor's sudden movement causing Jasper to look up, "What are you doing?" The Princess kept her eyes on him momentarily, before making her way around the coffee table towards the bedroom door, "I think I need an early night." Jasper's initial response was to snort, those words sounded so foreign coming from her lips; in fact, she rarely ever said anything that wasn't laced with either sarcasm or spite. "Alright, I'll try and be quiet when I come in," he responded, barely looking up from the paper in his hands, keeping it folded older so she wouldn't be exposed to the large picture of her father heading the front page. Nodding her head in response, she grabbed hold of her phone from the arm of the couch before making her way into the bedroom, door closing behind her.
It wasn't till forty-five minutes later that Jasper decided maybe he should hit the hay; standing from the armchair, he stretched his arms above his head until he felt a satisfying crack, padding across the room to the bathroom, he went about his usual routine. After he had changed, washed and brushed his teeth, he made his way through the adjoining door to the bedroom, expecting to see her Highness sprawled out in her usual gangly way.
The sight he was met with however, was nothing like that; the bed was empty, slightly ruffled from where she had clearly sat to pull on her heels. How could he have been so naïve to believe she would go to bed at such an hour? Maybe he'd just presumed that something had changed in her after the loss of her father, how wrong he'd been. The window was ajar, and only someone of her frame could have fit through it, which ruled out the prospect of her being abducted.
His fist soon collided with the wall, a monochrome picture of a sunset shook with the force; muttering under his breath, Jasper swiftly stepped back into the bathroom to get redressed. Grabbing his keys, he sped out the door, brow furrowed in annoyance; did she not know by now how much trouble she could get herself into? God only knew who was watching her, waiting for her to get inebriated enough that they could take advantage – the thought alone caused the nape of Jasper's neck to heat up. She couldn't have gotten far on foot, and he made the decision to turn left after pulling out of his driveway.
The Princess would, quite literally, be the death of him.
Thank you for all of the wonderful reviews thus far, I hope to have the next chapter up sometime tomorrow; please be warned it was fully satisfy the M rating.
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